


One Shot, That's All It Takes

by OldTsuki



Series: Prompts Prompts Prompts [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU star crossed lovers, Chief!Betty, Cop drama AU, F/M, Serpent King!Jughead, Tumblr Prompt, shootout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 13:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14716866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldTsuki/pseuds/OldTsuki
Summary: Betty is the Chief of Police for the Riverdale Police Department. Jughead is the leader of the Southside Serpents. Oh, and they're secretly married. In true Romeo/Juliet fashion, their doomed romance comes to a crossroads when Detective Reggie Mantle goes out to make an arrest. Chief Betty can't do anything to stop it--and so someone ends up being shot.Written in response to a tumblr prompt...this is a one-shot.





	One Shot, That's All It Takes

**Author's Note:**

> A "bad romantic comedy" idea was shared on Tumblr by lily-peet that led to this story. Written for jordansconner in Bughead Fam. When I saw this come up in the wishlist, a couple of lines grew into a story throughout the course of my day. Had to get this one set down on the proverbial paper as a result. I didn't edit much, so my apologies if there are any mistakes.

Chief Cooper would never describe herself as a crooked cop. She’d worked too hard to get to where she was now. Late nights studying, long afternoons at the gun range, and grueling physical training had all challenged her during her time at the police academy, but she’d conquered each hurdle and risen to the top of her class. Everyone was baffled when she accepted her first assignment in a small town—but it was _her_ small town. It was the place where she’d met the love of her life. And despite everything they’d been through, she wasn’t willing to let him go—him, or Riverdale.

Sure, she had to prove herself in the workplace starting with day one. Her coworkers were people she’d grown up with. She’d put all her skills to use immediately, struggling to prove that she was the best, climbing her way to the top of the department, persevering until she acquired the position she had today.

Had she lost evidence? Sure, but who hadn’t? And when she’d accidentally deleted the phone records they’d subpoenaed from the leader of a local gang, her team had chalked it up to her inexperience with her new computer. Never mind that it had taken her an hour to submit a request to the phone company for new records, only after she’d gone to lunch and made a call from a pay phone at the nearby gas station. If anyone was disappointed by the lack of incriminating evidence on those records the second time they were sent over, Chief Cooper was probably the most disappointed of all.

She’d put together the very best team she could assemble during her short career. Pushing them constantly to be better than they were or do more than they thought they could. Chief Cooper was becoming a legend in the state, with her team solving more unbreakable cases than the adjacent three townships combined. If there was one glaring blemish on her otherwise shining record, she figured it was just par for the course. Every superhero had their villain, after all.

But one afternoon when Detective Mantle brought her irrefutable evidence of a local gang leader’s whereabouts to ask permission for an arrest, she found herself backed into a corner. Mantle even supplied all of the necessary evidence demonstrating that the gang had been moving large quantities of Jingle Jangle over county lines, possibly out of the state. He’d uncovered an artery of drugs, and it was Chief Cooper’s job to sever it.

She wouldn’t have time for another trip to the pay phone today. And she didn’t dare use her burner phone to send a text message—who else could tip them off? So the best she could do was to tell Mantle firmly that she would be riding along for the arrest.

Did it make him even more anxious than usual, thinking that she was there to observe him? Perhaps. But knowing the history he had with the Southside Serpents, Chief Cooper knew that her presence might be the only thing preventing a full-out slaughter coming from the Riverdale Police Department. Her job, above all else, was to serve and protect. Whatever lines she might straddle, today she was going to keep that prerogative above all others.

She geared up and slid into the passenger seat of Mantle’s cruiser, which was followed by a small squadron of backup. Chief Cooper looked out the window and watched the streets of her small town pass her by.

————————

Jughead looked up from his paperwork at the tell-tale reflection of red and blue lights flashing throughout his office. The effect was undeniable, even through the meager window of his second floor room above the Whyte Wyrm. He’d been in the middle of tallying a list for a supply order that he needed filled before next week. Moving things around and figuring out what he could stretch so that he could afford to pay his employees. Add on the cost of the reverse-deliveries he’d had his people running all month, and he was struggling to figure out how to finish the week out of the red.

He could borrow money from his wife, perhaps. She was always reticent to fund his enterprises, but she knew deep down that he was operating for a good cause. At least, no matter how they might be separated, they were always united in their fight for the greater good. He simply cut the corners that she couldn’t.

As his eyes registered the lights, Jughead sprang into action. He rose quickly from his chair and opened the upper drawer of his desk. Withdrawing his handgun, he checked the safety before tucking it into his waistband at the small of his back. Just as he started toward the door, it burst open and admitted Toni Topaz. Her pink curls bounced over her shoulders and she was breathing heavily—she’d probably run up the stairs.

“Jug, it’s the cops—“ she gasped, nodding toward the window. He saw the recognition dawn on her face that he already knew. In the next breath, she said the words he’d been dreading he’d hear for years. “Betty is with them.”

“Fuck,” said Jughead, because what else could he say? Fuming momentarily, he made a few agitated movements as he considered what he should do. Looking at Toni, he said, “Get as many out the back as you can. No need to give them any opportunity for an accidental shooting.”

“But what about you?” Toni demanded, her brow furrowing in concern.

He simply said, “Betty won’t shoot me.”

She didn’t have time to argue, and she knew it. Turning, Toni dashed downstairs to begin evacuating whatever Serpents she could convince to leave. Jughead slammed his hand against the doorframe after she departed, staring down at the ground.

“Fuck,” he repeated. And for extra emphasis, he added, “Fuck me.”

What could he do? It wasn’t like he could turn himself in. The only thing he could do to save them now would be to get himself bumped into the hands of the Feds.

————————

Fact: Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones graduated with places in the top 10 of their class.

Fact: The Coopers had enough money to send Betty to college, while Jughead always knew he’d be on his own.

Fact: Jughead realized quickly that, as the Serpent King, he was unable to leave his people unattended to sit in a lecture hall an hour away.

Fact: Betty realized that she was happiest solving crimes, investigating murders, and reenacting all her Nancy Drew fantasies. She wanted to become a detective.

Fact: Betty and Jughead met next to Sweetwater River just after midnight on a humid July evening the summer after graduation to discuss their future together.

Fact: The following day, they argued spectacularly in Pop’s Diner, culminating in a boisterous breakup. 

Fact: Witnesses said that Betty looked as if she’d already been crying before Jughead called her every name in the book and walked out.

Fact: She cried for weeks afterward. 

Fact: She also stopped eating.

Fact: Jughead was charged a few days later with aggravated assault in a bar at the edge of town.

Fact: No one saw them speak again. 

Also Fact: They met the weekend following their ‘breakup’ at a motel in Pennsylvania, where they were observed by no one who recognized them.

Also Fact: They entered a courthouse on Saturday afternoon at 3PM.

Also Fact: They returned to Riverdale separately, and continued to live their lives separately.

Also Fact: Detective Cooper volunteered constantly for investigations involving the Southside Serpents. The precinct called them her white whale.

Also Fact: Jughead Jones commissioned a strange tattoo on the fourth finger of his left hand—just a simple line, thinner than a ring.

Also Fact: Chief Cooper officially booked time off once a month for a four day weekend, though she remained on call for her team.

Also Fact: No one on the team had determined where she went, though they’d traced her cell somewhere into the countryside.

Also Fact: With a history like Betty Cooper’s, everyone assumed that she needed a mental break from Riverdale to continue functioning.

Also Fact: No one understood how Jughead Jones, leader of the Southside Serpents, kept evading the police.

Also Fact: None of the Serpents understood why he wouldn’t let them quiet down the RPD, either.

Also Fact: No one except Chief Cooper and Jughead Jones.

——————

When she entered the Wyrm, it was with her gun drawn. Chief Cooper was nothing but a realist, and she knew that Jones would realize there was no way out without fire. Detective Mantle had her back, and he signaled to their backup team to go around the back. The bar was unusually quiet for that time of day—no sign of the high school initiates hanging around, either. Chief Cooper frowned over at Mantle, wondering if the Serpents had somehow gotten a tip that they were coming. She didn’t dare to hope that Jones would have made it out by now.

The first shot came from behind the bar. She reacted instantly, ducking for cover as she turned over a table. Mantle slid in next to her, glancing over with a surprised expression.

“I didn’t know he had it in him,” gasped the detective, clutching his gun.

Chief Cooper narrowed her eyes and replied grimly, “People do crazy things when they feel like you’ve got them cornered, Detective.”

Another shot flew past the table. Chief Cooper cursed and steeled herself mentally for what she was about to do. Letting her training kick in, she rolled shoulder-first and continued moving, trying to present a more difficult target. She saw a flash of blue and a wisp of curled dark hair before she felt the impact.

The Chief froze, looking down at her abdomen. She covered the bullet hole with a shaking hand before she looked accusingly at the bar. Of course, she’d put on a vest before leaving the station. And of course, Jones knew that. But he’d shot her anyway—he’d have a lot to answer for, later. Time seemed to resume its cruel march as she heard another gunshot, this time from Detective Mantle. She ducked behind the billiards table she’d been dashing toward and crouched, trying to catch her breath.

———————

When Jughead saw his shot make its mark, he was equal parts terrified and relieved. At least he’d gotten her squarely where her vest should be. It would have been much worse if he’d shot her in the leg, or the arm. At least he knew she’d live, despite a wicked bruise. _I’m never going to hear the end of this,_ he thought ruefully.

Seeing that Betty had broken away from the proximity of the other officers, though, gave him an opening. He worked quickly, ripping off a piece of his t-shirt and stuffing it into the top of a bottom-shelf bottle of liquor. No sense in wasting the expensive stuff. If he tried holding out much longer, Reggie Mantle was liable to actually kill him. Sure, he’d try to say that it was self-defense in his report—at least Jughead’s small ray of comfort was knowing that Betty would force him to tell the truth.

He flipped his zippo and lit the cocktail. Saying a brief prayer about the property damage, he pumped his legs upward and tossed it. Fire erupted in the center of the bar, creating a nice inferno that separated the police and their backup from himself—and, unfortunately, his wife.

Betty had no other recourse but to dash across the bar toward him. Just to make it look good, Jughead feigned taking aim with his handgun. To prevent himself from actually shooting his wife, he thoughtfully thumbed over the safety moments before she tackled him. Through the smoke and fire, he was betting that her team would have a hard time making out what was going on. 

As soon as they were both behind the bar, Betty punched him in the diaphragm. Her punches now weren’t like the ones she’d had as a little girl—grown up Betty knew how to hit, and _hard_. Jughead felt the wind get knocked out of him and grimaced.

“What?” he asked, wheezing.

“That’s for shooting me,” she hissed back. Then she pushed him down and crushed her lips against his, her fists curling in the remains of his torn shirt. Jughead may have never been so turned on in his life.

Betty straightened abruptly and pulled him with her, gesturing toward the back hall. Jughead didn’t need to ask for clarification as he dashed in the direction she’d indicated. He pried up the floorboards in the storage closet and let himself drop into the crawlspace, straightening just enough to nudge the boards back into place over his head. 

On his stomach, he crawled on his elbows and knees toward the ray of light at the back of the building, and away from the fire. Hopefully someone would put it out soon.

————————

Chief Cooper surveyed her ashy, sweaty, frustrated team in the unforgiving fluorescent lights of the RPD holding area. The cell (she was thankful) was glaringly empty. She put her hands on her hips and glared, walking the line of officers and silently regarding each one. It only took a glance to communicate her severe disappointment in each of them.

“What happened tonight wasn’t a complete disgrace,” she began. A few looked hopeful—the newer recruits. “But close to it,” she finished crushingly. “I want a full report on my desk in the morning, Mantle, to corroborate with my own.” She turned, glaring across the lineup. “Ultimately, your failure is my failure. And I don’t like to fail.”

Mantle opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he thought wisely and snapped his jaw closed instead as their eyes met. 

Chief Cooper took a deep breath. “Dismissed. Go home to your families,” she said.

As they filed out, she gave them slightly more consoling looks. She wasn’t cruel to her team, but she did expect them to be the best. Chief Cooper sighed once the room was empty. She could kick Jones to the West Coast for all the paperwork he’d caused her that evening.

She got in her car and drove north, heading for the outskirts of town. As her little house came into view, she could literally feel the tension of the evening start to melt away. Within moments, she knew that she’d have a warm bath and a glass of red wine. She’d soak until the smell of smoke left her skin and her hair.

As she let herself in the front door, she dropped her keys in the bowl on the side table and hung her purse on the hook next to the light switch. She unlaced her shoes and placed them on the mat next to a pair of muddy converse, which definitely looked like they’d seen better days. Hanging her coat on the tree, she walked across the living room as she began unbuttoning her uniform shirt.

A voice floated out from the kitchen. A deep voice, one that she’d known almost all her life. As she unzipped her kevlar vest and gingerly peeled it away from her abdomen, she heard the voice say, “How was work, love?”

Betty leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, glaring at the man who was tossing salad with his bare hands. A bowl of pasta was already set out on the table, a bottle of wine breathing next to it. He always cooked this when he knew he’d made a mistake, it was like his unspoken ritual of apology. Wine and carbs were almost certainly the way to her forgiveness, after all. That, and the tray of brownies she could smell already congealing in the oven.

“You fucking shot me,” she snapped, turning and tossing her vest onto the arm of their couch.

He set the bowl down on the table and wiped his hands on a tea towel. With as much tenderness as he always reserved for her, Jughead said, “I didn’t have much choice.” He raised the hem of her shirt, eying the purpling bruise apologetically. “Does it hurt?”

“Like you fucking hit me with a bat,” she said, still glaring. “Were you wearing your vest, at least?”

Jughead shook his head minutely. “Didn’t have time to put it on,” he admitted.

She gaped at him, then. “So you could have been killed tonight?” she demanded, frowning. What was the point in stealing equipment from the precinct for him if he wasn’t going to use it?

He sighed. “Look, I figured that you were probably going to bring me in, and I didn’t want Reggie asking any more questions about my connections than he already is, Betts.”

She pushed his shoulder and shook her head empathetically. “Let me deal with my people, Jug, and you deal with yours.” Turning to run herself the bath, she shot over her shoulder, “Wear the vest next time.”


End file.
